


Lay My Heart Down

by TheGirlWithTheRedBalloon



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-10 20:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12919938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWithTheRedBalloon/pseuds/TheGirlWithTheRedBalloon
Summary: From the moment he turned around and saw the gun in her hand, he knew





	1. To Be Alone With You

**Author's Note:**

> My take on the elevator scene

From the moment he turned around and saw the gun in her hand, he knew. Her hand outstretched offering the piece to him shook but there was that determined look in her eyes he had come to know so well. It was the same look she gave him every time he tried to tell her to leave and never look back. He knew he could trust her before, when he was in the hospital, the courtroom. He knew he could trust her when she welcomed him into her apartment even after the event in the woods, when he turned his back on her tear streaked face, "you’re dead to me" ringing in his ears. He knew the feeling he mulled over for a moment as he glanced between those clear blue eyes and the gun was not trust, but something else much more complex. He felt it tug on his heart and pull at his lungs.

He moved closer to her and saw that same trust reflected in her eyes, mixed with fear, courage, and kindness. Karen Page: emotional nebula. He paused, looked at the gun, looked back at her. She nodded her head, a little jerking motion with her chin, eyes never leaving his. He knew what she was saying without any words between them. How easily they could understand each other. Frank nodded and took the gun.

She moved in front of him, her steps confident and sure, and pressed her back to his chest. Instinctually he pressed in closer, the warmth of her body a small comfort amid the chaos. Slowly he brought his arm up to hold her against him. He hesitated, the gun in his hand too close to her face for comfort. 

“It’s okay,” she murmured against his skin, pressed her lips gently to his cheek as he had the other night by the water. She gripped his hand in hers and brought the cold metal to her chin, butt of the gun hard against her sternum, warmth of his skin seeping through her shirt grounding her. “Ready?” she asked, concern clear in her voice. He nodded and they walked out of the kitchen.

On the other side of the doors, several guns pointed their way as the two of them rounded the corner. Karen lowered her arms to her side and prepared to act the part of the hostage.

“Don’t shoot!” She shouted, her voice surprisingly steady as they walked through the hall. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot.” The men lowered their weapons as they watched Frank limp them over to the elevator. She could feel the strain in Frank’s body as he backed them against the wall and waited for the elevator, his labored breaths coming fast and hot against her ear. The tension in the room was palpable as the officers stood their ground.

“Hold your fire!” Brett Mahoney called to his men. “Stand down. Everybody, stand down.” The Detective Sergeant’s eyes scanned back and forth between her and Frank but he made no move to act. “Let her go, Castle. There’s no way out of this, man. Got the building surrounded.”

The doors opened and they wobbled in. Frank kicked the panel to close them and the second they were alone, the tension snapped. They fell apart, Karen’s legs gave out a little and she braced herself against a wall while Frank pushed himself into a corner, both panting as they fought to catch their breath. She straightened against the wall and reached out a hand, almost touching him, just an acknowledgement of his presence and that they were both okay. He glanced up at her and in that moment he could only describe her as fierce and goddamn beautiful. She leaned over and pulled the emergency stop. They had a only a few moments left and then Frank would be gone, up the elevator shaft as fast as possible.

He gave her back the gun. She weighed it in her hands as they switched sides. Frank looked up. There was anguish in his expression as he reached up to push away a ceiling panel for his escape. He collapsed back into the corner.

Karen watched him closely, taking in his multitude of injuries. All this for her? With so much pain and damage she had caused him, maybe he was better off without her. But he hadn’t needed to come for her. He kept telling her, perhaps more in actions than words, to stay away from him because of the danger that surrounded him. But he had come anyway. She could appreciate the significance of that but knew now was not the time to speak on it.

She saw the jagged piece of metal protruding from his arm and then she was calling out his name. He didn’t hear her so she called again. He tore his eyes from the ceiling, down to his arm, back to her, to the ceiling again and back. She went to his side like he had his own gravitational pull. His eyes finally settled on her, his breathing rough and ragged. She had to resist the sob bubbling up, bit her lips to keep the sound contained. Hand on his shoulder she looked closer at the shrapnel in his arm. He looked down, nodded, knew how grim his situation was.

Words caught in her throat, she couldn’t think beyond his pain and that she had gotten him mixed up in this. She grimaced, gesturing vaguely at him, tears scrunching up her face. He looked at her, the one beautiful thing in the whole world at that moment. Looked at her like he was a sinner and she was his salvation. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned more into her space, his eyes glancing between her eyes and her lips. He couldn’t pick one feature to focus on. Leaned in closer still before settling his forehead on hers. He closed his eyes, prayed that maybe this moment could extend for eternity.

They took a moment to share space and listen to the other’s breaths. Each knowing that at some point, it had to end. Karen would not let anyone else take him from her. She pressed closer for a second and squeezed his arm before stepping back, whispering, “Go, go.” She couldn’t let them take him. She had to keep her distance or she was afraid she would never let him go.

She saw Frank tear himself out of the moment, out of the calm they had created for themselves. She couldn’t help it as the tears welled up but she saw his red-rimmed eyes and decided it was okay to let them fall. There was nothing she needed to hide from him. The pause lasted only a beat longer.

“Take care.” His voice was gruff in the silence. Then he jumped and pulled himself into the elevator shaft with a pained grunt. She watched him go, but – 

“Frank!” She called out, looking up through the hole in the ceiling where she could see his boots. His face appeared over the edge. “Come see me when it’s done. When you’re done. Whenever you’re ready.”

Frank looked down at her, his saving grace. She was bruised and battered, shaken up from the day’s events but she was the single brightest point in his life. How could he keep himself away from her? He nodded and croaked out a soft “Okay,” ghost of a smile on his lips. She could have asked him to walk through fire and he would do it. That feeling from before, when she had offered him the gun and a way out, returned. It nearly punched him in the gut, adding to his already numerous injuries. He knew what it was now, too obvious do anything but chuckle at himself with the realization. She flashed her own grin his way, nodding back as he made his escape.


	2. No Sweeter Innocence (than our gentle sin)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beaten and bruised after Rawlins, Frank goes to see Karen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best work but I kept wishing for a scene like this.

Karen shuffled the last of her papers into their proper folders and stuffed them into her bag before pulling on her wool coat. She turned off the lights in her office and finally left for the night. She had spent the last several hours staring at photos and chasing down leads and the only thing on her mind now was to get home, order take out, and drink an entire bottle of wine. She deserved it after the day she’d had.

She caught a taxi and ordered Chinese from the place a block away from her apartment and had the driver drop her off out front. She payed for her food and walked the short mile home. The elevator in her building was broken, again, so she took the two flights of stairs to her front door, grumbling under her breath the whole way up, the take out bag heavy in her grip. She reached her floor and trudged down the hall. When she turned the corner at the end of the corridor she stopped dead in her tracks. Frank leaned against her door, his hood covering his head casted shadows on his face. He looked like he’d been there for a while. He raised his head and straightened up when he saw her. 

“Karen.” Her name came out gruff and quiet as he stood.

“You hungry? I got Chinese.” She lifted the brown paper bag and walked towards him. A moment passed, his eyes going back and forth from her face to the bag, before he nodded.

She heard the tumblers click as she turned the key for the deadbolt on her door, Frank’s body crowding into her space as she opened it. She handed him the bag and shrugged out of her coat. While he opened the bag she got out the wine and a couple of glasses, filled them up and slid one over to him. Karen watched him closely but the hood still covered his face and she couldn’t get a good look. She reached over and tugged it off.

He heard her sharp gasp and looked over at her tentatively. The recent bruises were still deep violet around his eyes and across his cheekbones. The cut on his left cheek wasn’t quite scabbed over yet. He had hoped she wouldn’t say anything and while she hadn’t actually said any words yet, her silent horror was somehow worse. She had a hand over her mouth and a worried crease between her brows. He turned towards her to face her judgment. None came.

She moved in closer and wrapped her arms around his neck and gently pulled him in, cooing softly. Frank hesitated. There was so much he had done, so much he still had to do, and he wasn’t sure who would come out of it on the other side. Who would he be, without anyone left to fight? He decided it didn’t matter. If Karen, who sought to find the goodness in everything, could love him, then he would make peace with himself when it was finished.

That’s what this was, love, no mistake about that. Frank hadn’t felt this depth of emotion since Maria. Karen could break him, wreck him, leave him but he’d still keep coming back. He let that thought fill him up, let it soak into his bones and unbind his heavy heart.

Frank wrapped his arms around Karen’s waist, twisted his fists into her shirt and held on tight. He turned his head and buried his nose into the crook of her neck and breathed in. The lilac of her perfume was intoxicating.

Karen wanted to hang on to him forever. There was no space left between them, his nose nudged at her neck and she ran her fingers through his hair. A pleased sound rumbled from his lips and she tucked herself in closer. He smelled like gunpowder and blood and she wouldn’t have him any other way. When you love someone, it’s not just for the shiny parts. You love all of them, including the ragged and ugly edges. She loved Frank and every broken, rough piece of him.

“What happened to you?” They slowly released each other and Karen reached up and cradled his head in her hands, careful of the injuries.

“Oh, you know,” he glanced down at his shoes. “Mild torture.” He heard her wry chuckle. “He’s dead now, Rawlins. He’s done.” Eyes still glued to his feet Frank waited for her to step away from him, for the disgust he assumed she’d feel. But again, it never came. That was it. He had to tell her. If not now, when? “Karen-” the words stuck in his throat.

She was piling chow mein from the carton onto her plate when he said her name, a rough sound breaking the silence. She looked back at him, saw love and worry and hurt in his eyes. She just nodded and leaned in, pressed her lips to his cheek. She knew what he was trying to say, it was the same thing she was attempting to find the words for herself. But there would be time later to discuss these things. She had to believe that. They ate on the couch, shoulders touching and companionable silence in the air.

A couple hours later, after the leftovers were put away and the dishes washed, they sat together. Karen tucked into Frank’s side, his arm wrapped around her rubbing circles into her back. Again he broke the quite.

“It’s not done, not yet. There’s still Russo.” She twisted to look up at him.

“Russo?” He hadn’t told her everything but she knew enough to know how close the two men had been.

“Yeah. Bastard turned his back on family.” She reached over and took his hand, rubbed at his rough, callused palm with her soft skin. He looked at her; saw ferocity light up her eyes. Frank decided then to stop assuming she would leave because of the things he’s done, is doing. She was braver than anyone ever thought. He nearly laughed at the thought of anyone walking in and seeing them the way they were, Karen cuddling with the big bad Punisher. Truth was, they were more alike than anyone cared to see. It was why they understood each other so well.

“Okay.” She nodded and squeezed his hand. “Okay. And then you come home.”

Frank blinked at that. He remembered seeing Maria when Rawlins nearly broke him. He remembered her taking his hand and pulling him away. “Home,” she’d said. He remembered stopping her.

“I’ll come home.” Wherever Karen was would be home enough for him.


	3. You Knew Who I Was With Every Step That I Ran To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank came to her after Curtis’s meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's terrible.

Frank came to her after Curtis’s meeting. He elected to walk the several blocks to her apartment rather than catch a cab; thought the fresh air would help shake off the emotions from the evening. He felt like a live wire, raw and open. Vulnerable, he thought, not enjoying the feeling. But it was colder than he’d predicted and even his bones were shaking by the time he knocked on Karen’s door.

He heard the dead bolt shift and then she was standing before him. The glow from inside bounced off her blond hair creating a halo effect. His personal angel. He pushed his hood off his head and stared at her.

“Hey you.” He barely got the words out before Karen was pulling him into her embrace. They never needed many words to understand each other. He tucked his head into her shoulder and hugged her close. She smelled like lavender and she was soft and warm against his cold skin. They could have been standing there for minutes, hours, even days. Time ceased to matter. But eventually they separated and Karen led him into her apartment.

She went to the kitchen, Frank close behind, and pulled a half-empty bottle of whiskey from a cabinet along with two glasses. His hands trailed across her shoulders, her back, wrapped around her waist, he buried his face in her hair. Now that he had time he wasn’t going to let her go, even for a moment. Karen moved them to her couch and poured their drinks. She handed him a glass and tucked her knees into his side.

He took it and let the amber liquid burn down his throat and settle in his belly. They sat in their usual silence and Frank’s shivers began to dissipate. Karen watched him closely, curious eyes flickering across his face and form. There were new injuries, though not fresh but healing slowly. The cut on his left cheek was nearly gone and the bruises on his face were a yellow green. She brushed his hair from his forehead; let her knuckles linger on his jaw. His eyes scanned her face and he watched her eyes, her lips, and the tilt of her head as she looked him over. A smile tugged at her lips and she hid it behind the last sip of her drink.

“What?” His voice came out raspy from disuse. He rested his arm on her knees and leaned in closer. She shrugged and placed her glass on the small coffee table.

“You being here, it’s nice.”

“Well,” Frank said, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I did promise, didn’t I?” They were so close; Karen was practically in his lap for all the space left between them. Frank found the warmth of her body comforting and exhilarating at the same time. “I’m assuming you’ve seen the news?” The incident at the carousel had been splashed across every news outlet and paper for the past few days. The information available to the public, thought, was limited and riddled with inconsistencies and Karen had the strong suspicion that Homeland was controlling the story. She nodded in response. “I want you know I didn’t kill Billy. He’s probably not waking up anytime soon but he’s not dead.” Frank wasn’t looking for her approval, not really, but he felt it was something she would appreciate. She placed her hand on the side of his face and he leaned into the touch.

She shifted closer and brushed her lips along his, the ghost of a kiss. 

“You’re a good man, Frank Castle.” She whispered into his skin. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and then rested her’s there. They stayed like that for a few minutes, sharing space and breath. Frank was almost afraid to move out of fear of breaking the moment and having it all disappear like smoke.

He remembered the words he spoke at the meeting. His war was over, yes, but he realized he didn’t need to be scared of what came next. Medani had given him a second chance and he didn’t plan on wasting it. Maria and the kids were gone and his heart would always carry their memories but Frank still had half his life to live. And this woman in front of him, this woman who had opened her life to him and had helped him in more ways than he could ever repay, would be right there with him. If she would have him, that is.

“You sure you want this?” he asked, running his fingers through her hair. “There are parts of me that may always be broken.”

Karen knew what he meant. Frank would always exist in some grey area. But just as when they stood a hair’s width apart in the elevator, she would take every part of him if it meant he would stay.

“I want all of you, Frank Castle. Especially the broken pieces.”

There was nothing left to say so he leaned in and captured her mouth with his. Kissing Karen Page was like coming home. Their lips met and everything fell into place like they’d been together for years. For the first time in a long while, Frank could see a future for himself, one that definitely included Karen.

When they finally turned in for the night, Frank curled himself around her. They were in no rush for anything to go further. They had all the time in the world now. And in the morning, when he wandered into the kitchen to see Karen in his shirt sipping coffee and reading the paper, Frank thought life without a war seemed pretty damn good.


End file.
